Judas
by E. M. Morning
Summary: Love is like a brick; you can build a house or sink a dead body.
1. Chapter One

Judas

Some relationships are better left unchartered rather than explored, as Michael discovered. If something does not initially seem like a good idea, chances are that that it is indeed not a good idea, especially when it comes to relationships. It is not good to fill the gap from one broken relationship with a quick, messy one. It was not what Michael planned, though. He never could have for seen his life taking this turn when only a few months ago everything appeared to be going smoothly. At least it was to him, but appearances can be very deceptive. To Star, their life together was not perfect; in fact it was far from it.

In the beginning, both Star and Michael believed they would be together to ever. They had to be; you just don't survive an event like destroying a family of vampires together and not form some sort of tight bond. Michael had saved her from half existence, as well as her beloved Laddie, and Star would always be grateful for that. It was the very thing, the near death experience that ignited their romance. At first it was all passion and fire, and a year after the vampire incident Michael had convinced her to move into an apartment in town. They got along well, as well as any actual newlyweds, or so it seemed for the first few months. Time wears down many things, one of them being relationships. Nerves were worn to the core. Tears were shed. Harsh words of criticism and name calling was tossed about. Star declared Michael to be immature and selfish, to which Michael retaliated with a variety of vulgarities. In the end they decided to split, both agreeing that it would be for the best, though one thought more so than the other. Star took off with Laddie, and the two found an apartment of their own. Michael remained in the building feeling rather bored, lonely, and quite desperately horny.

Desperate would be the word Michael would use to describe it. He had not dated too much before Santa Carla, and finding another girl after Star seemed to be near impossible. She was perfect, or at least had been during the glory days. In his mind there was no way any other relationship could top that. Of course, Michael did not necessarily need an actual relationship. He almost would be just as satisfied screwing around with some girl, and Santa Carla had an abundance of those types of girls. That was his plan; find a random girl at the beach and fuck her to his heart's content. With that thought in mind, Michael went to the beach in search of that one special person.

The warm fall nights were quickly becoming cooler, and many people believed this called for celebration. There would be one last beach bonfire before it became too cold. It was hosted by the local beach Nazi's, who made sure there was a full supply of alcohol for all of their guests. Michael would usually skip these sorts of parties; there were a little too much drunken beach dwellers than he could handle. But he had nothing better to do, so he went.

As he walked along the beach, Michael scoped out potential new friends. Most of the girls he saw all looked the same: big, teased hair and tanned, scantily clad bodies. They wobbled across the sand, tripping and clinging to the nearest guy. It was all too easy. He could chose any one of these of these girls and take her back to his apartment without even having to learn their name, and it could be all over with by the next morning. But the longer Michael looked at these girls, the less appealing they became. Every girl looked the same; too normal. He needed someone different, someone that was not so Santa Carla. Michael spotted someone familiar stumbling through the sweaty crowd. It was Alan Frog, his kid brother's strange friend; one of the few people that went beyond Santa Carla weird but still managed to be one of the sanest citizens. Michael watched the teen for a moment, debating whether or not he should go over and talk to him. As usual, Alan looked out of place with the beachy scene. While most people were stripped down the bare minimum, the young vampire hunter was still dressed in full uniform even though it was too much for still warm weather. Michael decided that he would go over and at least talk to the kid. It was not like he had anything better to do at the moment.

Alan jumped a bit when he heard someone say his name, and became even more surprised when he saw who it was that called for him. Michael, Sam's older brother. He always made Alan feel uncomfortable and not only because of the whole half vampire thing. Michael is bigger and older than he is, and from past experience Alan has never had gotten along well with people who are could be labeled as such.

"Where are Sam and Edgar?" Michael asked.

"Somewhere," Alan answered. "We were down here earlier, but I lost them."

Michael nodded. It was not surprising. He noticed that Edgar and Sam had been going off on their own more often, leaving Alan to play the part of a third-wheel. They stood there awkwardly, unable to think of any other conversation starters. Alan picked at the end of a sleeve of his jacket. He tried his best to remember to keep eye contact, a skill that he had never quite mastered. Michael smiled at the boy's obvious discomfort, and suggested that they should hang out for awhile; at least until Sam and Edgar showed up. Alan was taken aback by the offer; never before had anyone wanted to hang out with him. Well, no one besides Sam and Edgar, who barely counted since they are brothers. Alan nodded, and followed Michael through the crowd of partiers. As they pushed their way through, Michael snags a couple of beers from an open cooler and tosses one back to Alan. Alan catches it, but hesitates to open it. He has never tried alcohol before, and hadn't planned to do so for a few more years. Still, moments like these do not happen often so he figured it was enough to try. That and the fact that he did not want to seem like some little kid.

They walked further down the beach, away from the party to where the pier stood. There were a few other stragglers there, mostly drunks who had wandered off, but not many. Alan leaned up against a wooden leg, sipping at his bear while Michael yammered on about something. The drink was terrible; Alan could not understand how anyone would want to drink it, especially multiple times. It was bitter and vile, and smelt just as bad as it tasted, but still he continued to drink it. Alan was too preoccupied with trying to keep down the beer that he did not notice that Michael had ceased talking. The older boy stood still, watching Alan closely. He was thinking; thinking and wondering about Alan Frog. Perhaps it was the alcohol or even his desperation, but Michael felt a growing desire. He found it to be disturbing, yet at the same time oddly exciting. Alan could be just what he needed.

Michael pushed forward into Alan, digging the teen's body further into the wooden pole, and lightly pressed their lips together. Alan did not resist, but the kiss remained one sided. He was feeling much too confused to know how to react. He had never been kissed by anyone before; the idea of it had barely crossed his mind, but there he was under the pier, kissing his good friend's older brother. The night could not get any stranger.

Alan began to tense up as the Michael's hands began to roam his body. The physical touch was something that he was certainly not used to. Michael pulled back a little so that their faces were nearly touching. He stared at his companion, contemplating his next move. The boy was obviously uncomfortable as well as awkward. But then again, when wasn't he? All he needed was a little guidance. Without saying a word, Michael took a hold of Alan's arms and guided them to around his neck, pulling their bodies closer together. He kissed him again, and this time lasing longer than the first. Michael ran his tongue across the boy's lower lip, gently requesting access. It took a moment, but Alan got the message and quickly opened his mouth. He tried his best not to gag once he felt Michel's tongue against his. It felt odd and a little slimy, but at the same time he did not want it to leave quite yet. The large hands roamed further down his body, stopping to grope his backside. Their hips ground together, and Alan felt another odd sensation begin to kick in.

Much to teen's dismay, Michael broke away. He quickly made up for it by moving to Alan's neck, creating a trail of soft kisses across the slightly tanned skin. He could finally feel the boy starting to relax in his arms then. It was easier than he thought it would be. From the corner of his eye, Michael saw the stumbling outlines of two beach party dwellers. This was an inconvenience. The two would most likely pass by without even noticing them, and even if they did it was even less likely that they would say or do anything. But there was still the off chance that they would, and that was not something he could gamble. What he was doing was very illegal and morally wrong by most standards; Michael could recognize that, but at the moment he couldn't care. He needed somebody to ease his needs and if that body happened to belong to Alan Frog, then he was going to use it.

Michael moved his lips back to Alan's, briefly kissing him again. "Let's go back to my place."

Alan appeared to be dazed, but still, he nodded. He had an idea what Michael meant by that, and was not sure if he was all interested in it. What else could he say? Alan wondered. There was nothing else to do. Edgar and Sam were most likely still running around together and this would be better than being stuck alone again.

Michael kissed Alan once more, and led him back up the beach to where he parked his car. The atmosphere was awkward, even when Michael turned on the radio to fill the silence. Alan did not know what to say or even what to do. He had never had more than a couple of friends and now he was about to go over to an older person's apartment to do who knows what. This was not exactly the night he had planned or ever imagined having. Michael reached across and began to rub Alan's knee. He kept his eyes ahead on the road and did not say anything, and Alan did the same. Yes, this was defiantly one of the strangest nights of his life.

They drove back to Michael's apartment building. It was not very late; eleven o'clock at the latest. As they climbed the stairs to where Michael lived, Alan wondered if Edgar was home yet or if he would be out looking for him. He probably wouldn't. Edgar would most likely go straight to bed without even noticing that Alan was not at home.

It was obvious that the apartment belonged to a single male. There were more clothes on the floor than in the closet, and dirty dishes left out for some future but unlikely washing. Michael led Alan to the bedroom, only briefly referencing the mess. Alan started to begin sick once the door shut behind him. Alcohol and nerves are never a good mixture. As for Michael, he appeared to have no problem with the situation. He began to strip down, removing his grey t-shirt and carelessly tossing it onto the floor. Alan started at him for a moment before quickly looking away. There was no way anyone was going to get him to remove his clothes; he hadn't even been more than shirtless in front of Edgar. Sure he wasn't completely out of shape, better than most people his age, but compared to Michael he looked like a little kid.

Michael sat down on the foot of the bed and grinned. "Are you coming?"

Alan looked up and bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn't sure what to do. He could track down and fight vampires with no problem, but when it came to dealing with people he had no idea how to act. Michael motions for him to join him, and Alan does what he is told. He sits down next to his companion, unsure of what he is supposed to do next. Michael suppressed a sigh. Perhaps the idea was not nearly as good as he thought it was going to be. "You could at least take off your jacket," he said, and then quickly added, "If you want to."

No, Alan did not want to take off his jacket or any other clothing. At the moment he wanted to go home and stare at the ceiling in his bedroom like usually does. But despite his own interests, Alan follows the suggestion and gingerly removes his jacket, letting it slide to the floor. Michael gently stroked the side of Alan's face and guided it upwards so that their lips could meet. Alan tried his best to keep up with the motions. He knew what was going on, and part of him realized that it was not right, that it will not end well. The other half of him was curious and excited. The more Michael touched him, the more contact he wanted.

Michael slowly pushed him down onto the mattress and positioned himself above the teen, making sure not to press on all of his body weight. Alan started to relax more once Michael's lips moved to his neck. He liked the small smacking noise they created once they left his skin and the feeling of Michael's warm hand slide up under his shirt, stroking and grabbing at his body. Perhaps it would not be as bad as he thought. Alan wrapped a leg around Michael's body, pulling their pelvises together causing the elder boy to smirk. He grabbed the edge of Alan's shirt and pulled it upwards. "Has anyone ever told you that you wear too much clothes?" he asked.

"No." Alan reluctantly helped Michael remove his shirt, and watched as it was quickly thrown to the floor.

"But don't you ever get hot with all of it on?"

"No."

Michael steadied himself on his elbows and for a moment stared at the boy beneath him. "You're so fucking weird," he said. He pressed his lips on Alan's forehead. "But I like you." He kissed Alan's mouth again. "A lot."

Alan tried his best to keep a straight face, but inside he was beaming. No one, not even Edgar, has ever outright said that they liked him. He struggled to find the words the words he wanted to say. They could form perfectly in his mind; long, complete thoughts, but then they would get lost in his mouth. If they did so happen manage to escape on that rare occasion they turned out to be stupid, choppy, one word replies. So to save himself the embarrassment, Alan said nothing and continued to let Michael do whatever he wanted with him.

Michael ran a hand up the younger boy's thigh, trying his best to not rush or panic him. He liked Alan. He liked that he didn't talk much. He liked how he tasted and how he felt in his arms. Alan was soft, but it was a different kind from what he was accustomed to feeling with Star. Star was all curves; a fully developed body that was easy to hold onto. Alan was still soft with baby fat, caught between child and adults. Touching him vaguely reminded Michael of Sam. Sam, Michael thought. He was the same age as Alan. Sure Alan was more mature than him, but they were still the same age, both under eighteen. Michael would beat up any older person that would try to do anything inappropriate with Sam. He had vowed to do so, but there he was in bed with someone still legally a kid.

Oh God! He is about to fuck his little brother's friend. It was so messed up, so terribly wrong on many levels. But still, he did not want to stop. Age did not really mean much at the moment, and by the little noises he made when Michael kissed and touched him, Alan didn't seem to mind too. He was more mature than most kids his age after all. He was practically adult when they first met. Michael could screw him. No one would care.

Alan watched as his partner began to remove his jeans, and wondered if he should do the same. He tried to keep his face still when the rest of Michael's clothing was tossed to the floor. There was no way they were going to make this work.

"Have you ever done it before?" Michael asked. He fumbled with the boy's waistband, but managed to yank off his jeans and boxers in one fluid movement.

Although he could feel his face beginning to heat up with embarrassment, Alan still managed to reply. "No."

"Me neither."

"But I thought you and-."

"I meant with a guy," Michael said, quickly cutting in before the boy could get out the last word. He did not want to hear Star's name. He did not want to think about her in anyway. Not now. Michael looked down at Alan, and again thought of his own brother for a moment. He still looked young, maybe too young to be doing this. But Michael needed to do this. He needed to forget Star this night, and the weird Frog kid was going to do just that if only he could get over this minor age difference.

"Here." Michael took a hold of Alan and turned him over so that he was lying on his stomach, using a little more force than he planned to. "It will be easier this way."

Alan nodded, though he was not sure if it was entirely true. He felt Michael's body lean over him, and watched as he rummaged through the bedside drawer, pulling out some container. The wait seemed to last forever until Michael spoke. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Once again Alan nodded. He could feel Michael pressing up against him. The anticipation was starting to make him feel ill.

"Alright, buddy. Just try to relax now."

He closed his eyes. Yes, this was definitely a bad idea.

When it was over with Alan laid still and quiet. Michael had not said a word either. Once they had finished he had settled himself onto the bed beside Alan, and closed his eyes. Alan remained on his stomach, waiting to see what would happen next. The sheets were cool and wet against his face, the material dampened by a few stray tears that had managed to escape during the previous activity. He was hurting, but Alan did not dare tell Michael this. He didn't want to upset him, and he did not want it to stop. If he could, Alan would stay in bed with Michael for days, but it was getting late and he needed to get home, and to do this he would have to wake Michael up. It seemed like an impossible task. He would walk if it were not for the terribly sore condition his body was in. He would have to disrupt his partner.

"Michael," Alan said, keeping his voice in a whisper. When he did not even stir, Alan tries again, but this time he gently nudges his arm. Michael mumbled incoherently and slowly opened his eyes. For a moment he forgot where he was and what had just taken place, but it quickly returned to him once he saw Alan looking back at him. Grinning, he reached out and pulled the boy up against his chest. "What's up?" he asked.

"Could you take me home?"

"Why?"

"I need to go."

"No you don't," Michael said as he nuzzles his face against the dark locks. "Stay here."

"I have school tomorrow."

"Skip it."

"I have a test."

The feeling between them quickly turned cold. Michael sighed and released Alan from his arms, leaving the boy alone on the bed as he gathered up their clothing. He tossed Alan his as he began to dress himself. Already Alan was regretting his decision. For once someone had been interested him, and now he had pissed that person off. "I'm sorry," Alan says quietly once he finished dressing.

"Why?" Michael asks as he puts on his shirt.

"You're mad."

Michael grins. "I'm not mad, just tired." He sits on the bed again next to Alan. "How are you though? Are you ok with all of this?"

"I'm fine."

"Good." He pauses. "You're not going to tell anyone about this? Right? Not even Edgar?"

"Why would I tell Edgar?"

"I wasn't sure if you two talked about those kinds of things."

Alan shook his head. No, they did not talk about those sorts of things or many other things.

"Good." Michael leaned forward and kissed him one last time. "Let's get you home now."

* * *

><p>More than a week passed before Michael got a chance to see Alan alone again. They had briefly met before when he was back at home for a visit. Both Frog brothers were already there, sitting in the living room with Sam when he arrived. They barely acknowledged him as he went through the room, but as he passed by the couch Michael took the opportunity to mess with each of their hair, his hand lingering a moment longer in Alan's hair. They said no word to each other for the rest of the evening. It is not until late Saturday afternoon did the two come into contact again.<p>

Michael walks along the boardwalk with little purpose, bored and itching for something to occupy his time. Santa Carla is much emptier now the summer season has passed, and increasingly becoming more so with each new day as the population dwindles down to the locals. As he passes the comic book store, Michael looks into the open doorway to see if Alan is working. He is. The teen stands at the counter with a pencil in hand and a pad of paper sitting out in front of him. He drums the end of the pencil against the side of his nose as he stares at the blank paper. Alan had been left in charge of to count supply while Edgar stayed at home to watch over their mother after she had fallen into another one of her, as what she described, episodes. Their father had accompanied Alan to the store, but disappeared a few hours after opening, giving some mumbled excuse that his son did not understand. Over an hour has passed and Alan is still alone, and trying to motivate himself to finish a task that he despises.

He sighs to himself and sets the pencil down on the counter. Without Edgar there to keep him from spacing out, Alan can barely start getting anything done. It was much easier to work when there was someone else there to help. It was a lot less lonely too.

"Hey."

Alan looked up, startled by the sudden noise. He blushes when he sees Michael standing a few feet away, smirking. The teen fumbles as he gathers up the pad and paper, and retreats to the aisles to begin counting. Michael follows. "Are you not going to say hi?"

"I'm busy," Alan replies, trying his best to keep his eyes focused on the comic books in front of him.

"Too busy to say hi?"

"No." He pauses a moment and glances over at Michael. "Hi."

Michael watches as the teen scribbles down some numbers on the paper. "So, you're busy."

"Kind of."

"Doing what?"

"Working."

"What are you working on?"

Alan tenses as Michael steps closer to him. The faint smell of cologne fills his nose, and his skin starts to tingle. "Stock," he replies, the word stumbling awkwardly from his mouth.

"Does that mean you're too busy to do something?"

The boy merely shrugs and continues to write out notes. Michael tries his best to hide his growing frustration. Carrying on a conversation should not be this difficult. "Do you want to do something?" he asks.

"I don't know."

Michael takes the pencil and note pad right out of Alan's hands before the boy even has a chance to protest. "I'll buy you ice cream or something if you come hang out again."

Alan studies him. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

"Maybe," Michael says, smirking. "Is it working?"

Work or ice cream? It was not that difficult of a decision; anything is better than working at the shop. "I have to close up first," Alan says as he digs for his keys in his jacket pocket.

"I'll help."

The two pushed away a few stray boxes filled with comic books. Alan left the notepad lying on the counter top for someone to fill out later. Edgar or his dad could do it; he doesn't always have to be the one who takes stock. Besides, it wouldn't make a difference if he took the day off, he told himself. It was the slowest part of the year; people rarely stopped in, especially before nighttime hours.

"Should you leave a note or something for your parents if they come back?" Michael asks as he helps Alan push the heavy door shut.

Alan's expression morphs into one of discomfort at the mention of his parents. "They won't be looking for me."

"Good." Michael scopes the surrounding area before pulling Alan into a kiss. "I can keep you longer, then."

* * *

><p>Michael is in charge. It only took a month or so, but in that short period of time he knew that Alan would do anything he asked. Michael could tell him to drop to his knees, and he would obey, waiting for further instructions. He could call him up nearly any hour of the day, and Alan would be ready to go in a matter of minutes. It is almost pathetic in a way, but Michael cannot complain. He finds it somewhat endearing how eager Alan is to please. He craves attention, and Michael is more than happy to give it to him.<p>

It also doesn't hurt that Alan is quiet. In fact, a majority of the time Michael has to push him to say more than one or two words. The kid can give one hell of a blow job, but cannot carry on the simplest of conversations without it becoming a stumbling, awkward mess. He is hesitant with every reply, always trying his best to make sure he was answering correctly. It only makes Michael like him more.

Like, not love. Michael likes how he can make the boy shiver with just a touch, and how Alan pulls on his hair while they are in bed. He likes how he only has to ask, not beg to get what he wants; only sometimes having to use something like ice cream as a method of persuasion. He enjoys being able to talk to someone without being interrupted, or feeling like he was being judged by his every word, or that it will be taken out of context and warped into something entirely different. He likes the little face he makes when he is trying to process what Michael had just said into his own language, and how he bites the inside of his lip and how his nose scrunches up the tiniest bit as he tries to think of how to reply. Michael likes Alan. He likes him a lot, but would not categorize their relationship as anything serious. They are only friends.

And as Alan believes, a friend should be willing to go to any lengths to keep the relationship on good terms, even if meant making personal sacrifices. So when Michael brought up the idea of him skipping school and spending the free time back at the apartment instead, he was willing to agree. It took some coaxing on Michael's part since Alan was not too keen on the idea of falling behind in his classes, but he eventually caved. He would fake sick in the morning and wait until Edgar was at school and his parents were at the store, then he was to call Michael, who would come pick him up and take him back to the apartment.

They spent most of the day together in bed. Alan lies facedown amongst the sheets, half asleep and with a sore body. Michael's fingers ran along the skin of his back, caressing and tracing paths of his shoulders, his ribs and spine. He can smell Michael's breath and the mixture of aftershave and sweat radiating from his body. Only the sound of passing traffic and the gentle noise coming from the ceiling fan can be heard. It is a quiet that Alan is not accustomed to, one that one that is different from the silence at home. There it is empty and constant to the point where he feels the need to rip every single hair right out of his head. But in the apartment the silence was comfortable. He can lie still and close his eyes without feeling forgotten. Here he is never forgotten. It is impossible to be when Michael almost always has his hands him, forever touching and feeling and kissing his body. It is border line obsession, but Alan doesn't mind it. Anything is better than home.

Michael snakes an arm around Alan's middle, and pulls him up against his chest. "Hey," he says. "What grade are you in this year?"

Alan fidgets under his grip. They have never discussed school before aside whether or not Alan should go. School is not the most enjoyable of places, and talking about is on any level was awkward, to say the least. "Eleventh," Alan mumbles. Eleven years of torture and only one left to go.

"So how old would that exactly make you, then?"

"Sixteen."

Sixteen. Michael doesn't even bother to ask when his birthday is. It already feels strange enough that he is the same age as Sammy; there is no desire to know any more specifics.

"Does it bother you?" Alan asks quietly.

"No." It was the truth, at least for the most part. "Not really. What about you?" Alan shakes his head a little. The dark hair tickles the tip of Michael's nose. "Good."

Alan turns himself so that he may face his partner. "Do you think anyone knows?" he asks. "About us?

"No." Michael kisses his cheek and then his mouth. "Why?"

"I think Edgar does."

"Nah. He doesn't."

Alan struggles to move his face from Michael's eager lips. "But-." He does not get a chance to finish his sentence. Michael closes his mouth over Alan's, pushing his tongue inside to shut the boy up. The day has been so laid back; there is no need to start a serious discussion now. Alan moans as he pushed back onto the mattress. Michael stretches out on top of him, covering as much of his body as possible.

"Besides," Michael says, breaking the kiss. "It wouldn't matter if he knew. It wouldn't change anything. Right?" Michael hugs him tightly then, grinding their bodies closer together.

Alan can feel Michael go stiff against his thigh. "Yeah," the teen replies weakly.

* * *

><p>Edgar considers himself to have a pretty strong relationship with his brother. Sure they don't talk all that much or do normal brotherly things, but neither of the Frog brothers have ever been considered normal in any way. They were close in their own way. They had to be. For the longest time it had only been the two of them. With no capable parents to take care for them, Edgar and Alan had to rely on each other to make sure they survived. Edgar loves him, though he cannot always admit to it. He worries about Alan; he always will.<p>

Edgar became even more worried for his brother once he started to notice some changes. He noticed that Alan was a little more distant than usual, more scattered brain like his mind was in some other place. Alan was also disappearing more, something that Edgar found highly unusual since he and Sam were pretty much the only people he spoke to, and most of the time Sam was with them. Edgar also noticed the sudden interest Michael seemed to have with Alan.

Yes, Michael Emerson, older brother to Sam, was making appearances more and more often. He had done it before, occasionally stopping by their comic book shop, but it was always about Sam. Now he stays longer, something even trying to strike up a casual conversation with them. Alan acts no different around Michael than usual, but Edgar knows something has changed. He can sense it. There is no reason that he could think of that someone like Michael, someone older and with completely different interests, should be paying that much attention to Alan. Even if he is just being nice, Edgar will still question his motives. It is his job after all.

So when the next time Michael showed up again, Edgar made sure to take a few extra notes. It is a particularly busy night, busier than most during the off season. They had been in the middle of going through a fresh shipment of comics when a sudden rush of people decided to come in. Since there is only the two of them actually working, Edgar and Alan try their best to finish with the new comics while staying on top of customers. Alan was assigned to finish checking in the stock and setting out the new comics on display. Edgar took his place on the floor at the counter, knowing that his brother would most likely somehow screw up the register again.

In the middle of it all, both Emerson boys walk into the store. Sam grabs a new Superman from shelf that Alan had just placed it and walks straight towards Edgar, ready to distract him. Michael lingers behind near the front with Alan. Edgar watches them.

Michael leans slightly towards Alan, talking about something Edgar cannot make out. Alan does not seem to be interested; he continues to stack the shelves without even looking at him. Michael pauses, and he looks at Alan as the boy continues on with his work. Michael then says something else, this time playfully jabbing him in the side. Now he has Alan's attention. The younger of the two looks away from the comics to Michael. He says something, but Edgar cannot tell what it is or what it may be about by Alan's expression. Whatever it was he said, Michael does not seem to be too happy with it. He frowns and speaks again. Alan shakes his head and returns to his work. That was the end of it. Michael left, and Edgar still could not figure out what was going on.

They see him again later on in the night when they are closing up shop. Michael passes by the open doors, this time with a stumbling blond in a white mini dress clinging to his arm. He does not look inside. He keeps his eyes on the tipsy girl, smiling as she jabbers on about something. Edgar looks at Alan. There is something beneath Alan's usual sullen expression that he could not quite put a name too. "What's wrong with you?" Edgar asks him.

Alan glances over at him and shakes his head. "Nothing."

* * *

><p>Alan never spoke to Michael about the blond girl. He would wait, though; wait for some sort of explanation of who the girl was and what they were doing together. But Michael never once brought it up, which was not unexpected. He called Alan up a few days later to invite him over and they went through the motions of their usual nights without any interruptions. Alan did not see the blond girl again, which made it all seem fine to him. It was one time deal and that is all it will ever be, not that it really matters. They are not in a real, exclusive relationship. Michael is free to sleep with whoever else he wants, and Alan can accept that. It doesn't bother him. Not too much.<p>

For the past few Thanksgiving since moving to Santa Carla, Sam has invited his friends to come over for a sleep over the night before and to stay until Friday. Lucy would extend the invitation to the Frog parents, but they never showed up. She would make a big deal about the boys coming over as she did whenever they were around, always checking in on them and making sure they were comfortable and had enough to eat. Edgar and Alan would awkwardly accept her hospitality, though not all willingly. Still, it is an event that they both look forward to, even if they will not admit it, as it is not often that they find themselves in a normal family setting.

The night before the holiday, Sam decides that it would be fun to watch a scary movie. He stopped by the video store where his mother works and chose a selection of movies, one of them being the Shining, which was the movie he decided they would watch first. The Frog brothers, who had seen the movie a few times before, were not too impressed with the selection. They have grown up watching a wide selection of horror movies with their mother, and an isolated, haunted hotel with psychotic man is not on their radar of scary.

The three boys gather together on the couch in the living room, Edgar in the middle with this brother and friend by his sides. He can feel himself becoming bored as soon as the first scene appears. The movie starts out too slow for him. Nothing interesting happens until nearly the end, and by then he will be falling asleep.

Michael walks into the room through the room, heading for the stairs. He had come shortly before dinner, and much to his mother's delight, decided to in at the house, his old room for the remainder of the holiday.

"Mike," Sam says as he turns around to face his brother. "Come watch this with us."

Michael pauses at the stares and stares at the television. "No thanks."

"Please?"

The elder Emerson boy grins. "Why? Are you scared already?"

"No!" Sam exclaims defensively. "I just happen to want to hang out with some of my favorite people. That's all. You don't have to, though. You can go and do whatever you were going to do upstairs instead."

Shaking his head, Michael moves to the couch and settles himself in the spot next to Alan. Edgar slightly turns his head in their direction, trying his best to hide his spying. Neither Michael nor Alan have said a word about anything, nor has even openly acknowledged each other. However, they did seem to be a bit closer than usual, or so that is how Edgar perceived it. They sat side by side, their knees resting against the others. Michael had lazily slung an arm on the back of the couch, right behind Alan, who, from what Edgar can see, seemed to be slightly leaning into the other. But there is not much room for four people, Edgar tried to reason; there is bound to be some sort of touching. Maybe he is over examining it. It would not be the first time.

Halfway through the movie, Sam starts to become bored. "Does he kill his wife?" he asks. "I hope he does; that is the most annoying woman ever. She could use a good axe to the head."

"Don't you think that's a little drastic, Sammy?" Michael says.

"Mike, have you not been watching the same movie? You must not, otherwise you would be agreeing with me. It's no wonder that guy loses his mind. I already am, and I'm not the one who has to live with her!"

Michael grins and tilts his head down to whisper something in Alan's ear. Both Edgar and Sam take notice to this. "What are you guys talking about?" Sam asks.

"Nothing," Michael replies. Alan remains quiet and keeps his eyes on the television in front of him. Edgar studies his brother, looking for any sort of reaction or clue to what had happened. He does not like secrets, not ones where he isn't included in.

"You better not be talking about us," Sam says.

"I'm not."

"Good." Sam turns his attention back to the movie, just in time to catch the scene with the woman in the bathtub. "Woa! This is getting really inappropriate! Cover your eyes, Eddie." He slaps a hand over Edgar's eyes, shielding him from the obscene image. The Frog quickly swats him away and glares at his friend, trying to once again get the message across not to touch him. Sam, however, does not receive the message and once again tries to cover his eyes. "Edgar, you can't watch this! Your young and innocent mind cannot handle such things!"

"Get your hands off me before I put my fist in your eye," Edgar growls. He tries to push Sam off of him, but Sam resists, pushing harder against his friend so that he is falling into Alan.

"I'm just trying to save you!"

Edgar pushes back on Sam, sending the boy off the couch and onto the floor. Sam sits on the floor for a moment, confused. He blinks, and then grins, pleased with the reaction he got from his friend. "You must really want to see that lady naked, you pervert," Sam says as he hops back onto the couch. When he looks back at the television, the naked woman had changed into a rotting corpse. "Holy shit! That is probably the most fucked up thing I have ever seen!" He covers his own eyes now in an attempt to block out the image.

"Are you scared now, Sammy?" Michael asks, smirking.

"No. Just scarred for life. If I ever go to a haunted hotel and find a random lady in the bathtub, I will run."

"Let's hope that never happens."

The dark lighting and the dullness of the movie is starting to make Alan tired. He yawns. Michael looks over at him and gently taps his knee against Alan's. The boy closes his eyes for a moment. He feels just about ready to fall asleep. If it were not for Edgar and Sam, he would lean into Michael and sleep right then and there. Alan opens his eyes and glances at his brother. Edgar is looking at him too, but says nothing.

Once the movie ends, Michael retires to his bedroom, and without his presence Edgar is able to relax a little more. Sam decided that The Shining was enough for the night after what he considered a letdown of an ending. He turned the television on to MTV, mostly using it as a tool for background noise. The show was quickly becomes lost to him once Sam falls into a rather heated discussion over the latest Superman issue with Edgar. Alan sits on the floor nearby, vaguely listening and putting in his thoughts when they were requested. He is tired. It would be a good time to sleep; Sam and Edgar will not even notice. Alan slides down into a lying position on the floor, using his arm as pillow, and closes his eyes. The floor is hard, but not entirely uncomfortable. He will sleep for a little while, just until the other falls asleep.

It is nearly two in the morning when Alan wakes. The television has been left on and set on mute. Edgar lies on the floor beside him, his red headband slipping down off his forehead to over his eyes. Sam is not too far off from them, curled up with a pillow. He is the one Alan is not afraid of waking up. Sam possesses the ability to sleep through just about anything. It is Edgar that he will have to worry about, because unlike Sam, the slightest sound can bring him right out of sleep. It was part of his vampire hunting training, or so Edgar claimed; one must always be prepared to fight in any moment.

Alan slowly pulls himself up off of the floor. He keeps his eyes on Edgar the whole time, waiting for the moment for his brother to spring into action. But Edgar does not wake. He still lies still on the floor, lost in sleep. Guided by the dull light from the television, Alan tiptoes his way through the living room, to the stairs. The hallway is completely dark. He moves at slow and uncertain pace, using the wall as a guide. His destination is Michael's old bedroom. Earlier, during the movie, Michael had told him to meet him upstairs once everyone was asleep. His request had not gone unnoticed by Edgar, not even by Sam. It had Alan worried that he would not be able to sneak away if his brother was on alert. But here he is now at the door, and Edgar is not awake to ruin it. He only hopes that Michael has not fallen asleep too.

Alan turns the knob and gently pushes on the door. He prays that it will not creak. It would not be good if he woke Lucy up, plus he would also feel rather bad about it. Alan hesitates before sliding through the half open doorway. The lights are off in this room as well. He does not know if Michael is still awake, and if he is not if he should disturb him. Just as he shuts the door behind him, a lamp flickers on. Alan squints his eyes as they try to adjust to the sudden change in light. He turns around to see Michael sitting up in bed, already shirtless, using an arm to shield his eyes.

"It took you long enough," he says, smirking. "Get over here."

Alan tries to resist smiling as he walks towards the bed. Michael reaches out and grabs him, pulling the teen onto his lap. He keeps a hand on Alan's waist, trying to stay balanced as he leans over to turn off the bedside lamp. "What took you so long?"

"Mostly Sam. He kept talking rather than sleeping."

Michael pulls at the teen's t-shirt and yanks it up over his head. "Were you asleep?" Alan nods, unable to speak as Michael once again shoves his tongue into his mouth. The elder grabs at his body, groping and feeling. It is moments like these that Alan enjoys the most, moments of pure lust and desperation; when skin to skin is just not close enough. In these moments Michael needs him, he even tells him so, and times like that are rare to come by. His parents have never needed him around and Edgar is just fine on his own. No one ever needed him, not until Michael chose him.

Alan wraps his arms around Michael's neck and slides his body closer against him. Michael pushed him downward, once again claiming his dominance. Alan did not fight back. He sinks further into the mattress, his body slowly being crushed by the other's weight. "Michael," Alan says in a whisper. He shifts uncomfortably under the weight. "You're kind of heavy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It feels like my ribs are going to break or something."

"Sorry." Michael adjusts himself to relieve some of the pressure. "Better?"

Alan nods, keeping his eyes casted downwards. He feels rather guilty for making them comment. He must make up for it before he upsets Michael further. Alan tries to summon up enough courage to make a bold move. The boy reaches downwards, aiming for the crotch of Michael's pants. He gropes at the flannel material, kneading and ironing it out. His efforts are quickly rewarded once Michael curses. The word comes out in a long, struggled gasp. Alan shivers at the sound. This is how Michael often showed his enthusiasm towards their activities, by letting out a string of repeated swears. At first Alan thought of constant chatter to be quite annoying, but now it has become somewhat of a turn on.

"Here." Michael takes Alan's hand away and quickly shimmies out of his pants. He then moves to Alan's jeans, fumbling over the button. "I've been waiting for this all night."

Alan lies still as he watches the man kneeling above him. Soft footsteps pad outside down the hallway. Alan freezes then. His body tenses up, waiting for the next sound. "Michael," he whispers. Michael does not answer. He is too busy celebrating finally getting his partner out of his jeans.

Alan tries again, this time slightly raising the volume of his voice. "Michael, I think there's someone outside."

"Cool," Michael says. He leans over Alan and pulls open the drawer on his night stand. He searches inside, rummaging around in hopes that there he had left behind something that would work as a lubricant. All there is is a flowery scented hand lotion. Michael shrugs. It will have to do.

"What if it's Edgar?"

"It's not."

"What if it's your mom?"

"Hey, bud," Michael says before kissing Alan's forehead. "Shut up for a moment."

Though they were not meant to be harmful, Michael's words still stung. Alan bites the inside of his cheek, trying his best to focus on something else. Michael grabs a hold of his legs then, and begins to pull him closer. "I don't know if we should be doing this now," Alan says quickly.

Michael stares at him, feeling half annoyed. "We're fine."

"But I don't want to."

"Yeah, you do."

"No," Alan says softly. He is no longer looking at Michael. He keeps his eyes on the door, half waiting for someone to burst in on them.

Michael sighs and buries his face in the boy's neck. "Why?" He moves backwards a little so he can watch for Alan's reaction. When Alan does not answer, he sighs again, trying to sound upset. "Come on, Alan. You can't just do all of that and stop now." He waits again. "I really want to be with you, Alan." The teen slowly turns his head so that they are nose to nose. "Please?"

It is Alan who sighs this time. "Ok."

"I promise to make it fun."

"Let's just do it."

Michael grins madly. "Whatever you want, Commando."

It is almost three when Alan manages to escape Michael's room. He staggers down the stairs, trying his best to not make a sound. He is pleased to see that the television set is still on in the living room.

Good, he says to himself. No one had woken up. Maybe he had just imagined those footsteps.

Alan slowly lowers himself back onto the floor in his old sleeping place next to Edgar. He curses under his breath as he lies down. Michael had done a number on him, and a speedy recovery did not seem to be in his future. Just as Alan is about to close his eyes for some well deserved sleep, he is interrupted by someone else.

"Where the hell were you?" Edgar asks. His voice is quiet, but to Alan it felt like he was screaming.

"Bathroom," Alan answers a little quickly. His body has tensed up. The wait for his brother's reply feels to be unbearably long. Edgar mumbles something, but seems to accept the answer. Alan is able to relax a little then, at least as much as his body will allow him. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Michael was once in love with Star. He fell in love with her at first, as corny as it sounds. From that night at the beach when he first saw dancing amongst the crowd of sweaty concert goers, he had been complexly enthralled with her. Even once he found out Star was part vampire, when he had every right and reason to run, Michael could not bring himself to leave her. He never planned to, at least not until Star left him. It was not as much of a surprise as he wished it to be. It was a break up long in the making; without the rush of danger, the fire died and the relationship became toxic. They were not good for each other, and Michael knew it one way or another.<p>

And although he knew this and a considerable amount of time has passed since the break up, Michael was not quite ready to let go yet. Not completely. Star can still make his breathe stop when he sees her. They have barely said more than casual greetings as they pass each other by chance, but those simple words were enough to give Michael the smallest hope to cling to.

In the mean time he distracts himself with other things, one of the most common being visiting the Frog Family's comic book shop. He had been spending more time there now, though there was not much to do. Alan would occasionally assign him menial tasks, like sorting through comics or keeping a look out for shoplifters, while he continued with his usual work. It was boring for the most part, but it was better than sitting around in the apartment, waiting for Alan to finish it. There were times when Edgar would be there too, and Michael would not stick around as long. The look he gave Michael made him feel uneasy. Edgar would stare at with such intensity, scrutinizing every move he made. It was odd and a little amusing, but mostly creepy. Michael was sure he knew now, or was at least on to him. Not that it mattered all that much to him.

Michael stops in one Saturday afternoon. The store is completely empty aside from Alan, who sits at the counter hunched over an open text book. Beside him is a notebook covered with mess of numbers and eraser marks. For once Alan's expression is not stone serious or bewildered. He appears to be stressed, grinding his teeth as he looks from the text book to his handwriting. If there is anything worse than shop work its homework, especially anything math related. He had done every single thing he could think of to procrastinate, but now that the shop was completely in order and there was no customer in sight, it must be done. Alan sighs and looks up from his homework, hoping some new distraction has come his way. And there it was, Michael, standing in the doorway of the store.

"Hey," Alan says. "Do you know anything about fractions?"

"Maybe. Do you need help?"

Alan nods. Michael walks towards the counter, and grabs a chair next to the television set that is usually occupied one of the Frog parents. He sets it close to the other. Alan can feel the coarse hair of Michaels' arms brush up against him as he slides the book over to him. Michael glances over at the open notebook. "You have terrible handwriting," he says to Alan.

The teen scowls. "I don't."

"You really do. Look." Michael takes the notebook and sets it between them. "I can barely read any of this. It's no wonder you can't get any of this done." He flips to a clean page. "What one are you on?"

"The first one."

"And how long have you been working on this?"

"Thirty minutes or something."

"Wow."

Alan fidgets with his pencil. "I know. I'm stupid."

"No you're not."

"My mom says so," Alan mumbles.

Michael gently bumps his head against the boy's. He is about to contradict Alan's statement when he notices two people have entered the store. One of them is undeniably recognizable. The dark hair, the full flowing skirts and glittering jewelry; it is Star and she looks just as wonderful and as beautiful ever. Despite her beauty, Michael cannot stand the site of her, especially now that she is in the company of another man. He is unrecognizable to Michael, and appears to be a bit cleaner than most guys in Santa Carla. The unknown male scans the store from top to bottom, looking rather bored and slightly disgusted by it. He leans down and whispers something in Star's ear. Star smiles a little, but rolls her eyes. She whispers something back as she flips through the section of comic books that Laddie likes to read.

Alan glances over at Michael, seeking his reaction. Even he, in all of his ignorance of the behavior of human beings, knows that his friend is not quite over this girl yet, and this situation is about to get much more awkward. Michael looks away from the couple and turns his attention back to Alan's homework. He writes down the first problem, mumbling instructions as he does so.

"Hey."

Both Alan and Michael look up to see Star standing in front of the counter with a few comic books in hand. She is smiling, but the guy standing next to her scowls. He does not try hide the fact that he is studying the two. Alan winces at the man's intense stare. He never dealt with these types of people before; it was always Edgar that fought off most of the bullies. He reaches out and takes the comic books from Star, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with the other.

Star can sense the building tension, and tries her best to calm it. "I haven't seen you in awhile. How have you been?"

"Fine." Alan rings up the prices on the cash register. "8.75." Star digs through her purse and pulls out a ten dollar bill. She hands it out to the teen, who takes it and opens the register to get her change. "How are you?" he asks.

Star smiles to herself. This is one of the few times Alan has made an effort to carry on a conversation with her. "Good! How's school going? What grade are you in now?"

Alan offers her the money and comics. "Eleventh."

"So you only have one year left? That's exciting! Have you started thinking about colleges yet?"

Her companion chuckles. Star and Michael whip their attention towards him, both scowling. Michael is about to say something, but is interrupted by Alan. "No," the teen answers, trying his best to keep ignoring the man. "Not really."

Star dumps the change into her purse. "Thanks! Laddie is going to love these. And you should start thinking about school; it's never too early to start." Alan shrugs. The gypsy girl smiles at him. "Well, I guess we should get going. Thanks again! See you later, Alan."

"Bye."

Star looks at Michael, who continues to glare at her friend. "Bye, Michael."

"Bye."

Michael waits until a few minutes after the two left to start talking again. "I can't believe them," he says.

Alan looks up from his workbook, confused. "Why?"

"They're complete jerks. Did you see the way they were looking at us?"

"Star's nice," Alan says as he scribbles a line on the upper corner of the paper. He knows what he said is wrong by Michael's terms, but he honestly likes her. Star has been nothing but kind to him and his brother, even when they were not the easiest people to talk to.

Michael shakes his head. "I can't stand her. If only you knew what she is really like, you wouldn't be saying that." Alan shrugs, and looks at the text book for the next problem. "Just being around her drives me crazy. And that guy she was with." Michael shakes his head again. Just the thought of the two makes him feel agitated beyond description. How could Star pick a jerk like that? And over him! What the hell is her problem?

"Hey," Michael says. "Do you want to do me a favor?"

Alan blinks, feeling confused. "With what?"

"Come with me to the back room quick and-."

"But you said you were going to help me with homework," the teen interrupts.

"I will. Just one blowjob quick and I'll help you with whatever you want."

"No."

"Come on," Michael says, getting up from his chair. He grabs Alan's arms and pulls him off the chair, to the direction of the back room. "You know you like it."

"Michael, I really need to get this done."

"I know, but I really need you right now." Michael grins as he sees the look in Alan's eyes change. He knows he said the right thing; it only takes a few words, and then he has his loyal little puppy following his demands.

Alan fallows Michael into the back storage room. "You only want to do this because you're pissed at Star," he says.

Michael locks the door behind them and grins. "Just a little. And because you look so cute with my dick in your mouth."

"You're so weird."

"Look who's talking." Michael takes the teen's face into his hands and tilts it up towards his. "Now get on your knees, Commando."

* * *

><p>Home never quite felt like home to Alan. From an early age he knew that his family was not normal. It was his first year of school when he noticed the differences, and it fascinated him. All the other little boys and girls in his class were taken home by bright eyed mommies or daddies that were happy to see their children. The other kids would run to their parents and tell them about their day at school with great excitement. The parents would eagerly listen, as if what the child was saying was the most important news in the world. Their love for each other was obvious. His mother was not so open with her love for her children, and Alan was not quite sure if it was really there.<p>

Alan questioned his mother about this once, why she was so different from all of those other mommies. Mrs. Frog shrugged off the question. Every family is different, she claimed, and there was nothing wrong with them. In fact, they are better for not deluding themselves and trying to base their life off of some phony, cheesy sitcom. They are real, unlike all of those other people.

Sometimes Alan does not feel all that real. It's more like that he is living someone else's life and is just waiting for his own to begin. Everyone sees through him. His parents, his brother, the kids and teachers at school, and everyone in else around him; they pass by without really seeing him. He is the invisible boy, or so that is how Alan feels. He could probably leave now and no one would notice his absence. He could create a new name, a new identity, and no one would know the difference.

But here he is now, stuck at home on a Sunday night with little hope of ever escaping. Alan lounges on the living room couch, blankly staring at the television as Edgar flips through the channels. He barely leaves enough time to see what show is playing. Normally Alan would tell him to quit it, but he not feeling up to the fight.

"There is never anything on," Edgar says, frustrated. He looks over at his brother when he does not reply. "What the hell has been wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do you keep acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Edgar pauses to think of how to describe it. "You're always so sulky and quiet. It's annoying."

"Sorry."

Edgar sighs, and flips to another channel. He studies it for a moment, trying to decide if it was worthy of being watched. No, it looks too boring. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Sure."

"You know," Edgar says as he pulls himself off the couch. "You are starting to sound more and more like Dad every day."

Alan scowls. "No I'm not."

"Do too."

"I'm not!"

"Fine. But you will if you keep up with your attitude." Edgar picks out a video from the drawer besides the television set. "Is this ok?"

"Sure."

"Seriously, I'm going to have to beat you up or something if you keep this going." He slides the video into the VCR player and presses play. "Are you really that unhappy?"

"Yes."

Edgar stares at his brother for a moment before pulling himself off of the floor. He says nothing as he sits back down on the couch, and neither does Alan. He feels awkward now and terrible for not knowing what to say. But what could he say?

Just as the movie began to play, the phone rang. Alan jumps up and dashes to the kitchen to answer it before anyone else could. Edgar watches from his spot. He wishes that they had another phone so he could listen in on the conversation. Alan mumbles a few words before hanging up. He joins Edgar again, but keeps quiet.

"What was that about?" Edgar asks.

"Nothing."

Edgar leaves it there, knowing full well that Alan would never admit. Besides, it didn't matter; Edgar had an idea who had called and what it was about. His theories on Michael and his strange activity had been confirmed just days before when he caught the two in the act of kissing. It pissed Edgar off, of course. He found it disturbing the way the elder boy sucked on his brother, looking as if he was trying to eat the skin right off of the teen's face. Edgar would have interrupted then if he had known what to say, but once again words failed him. He quickly left before he was seen. Later on he tried to think of a way of confront Alan without fully pissing him off. He doesn't want to take the chance of losing his brother.

Blinding headlights light up the windows. Alan's expression brightens. He jumps up off of the couch and heads for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. Edgar only watches. "You know he's just using you," he says as his brother opens the door.

Alan pauses for a moment, feeling slightly surprised by Edgar's statement. "I don't care," he replies, bluntly.

Once he is inside the car, Alan feels at ease again. He always feels this way when he is around Michael; all happy and thrilled. It could be described as giddy if the sound of the word did not disgust him so much.

"How are you doing, Commando?" Michael asks as they drive towards his apartment.

"Fine," Alan lies. He never mentions his problems at home or at school. Personal conversations are almost like a taboo when they were together. Well, anything personal besides how annoying or how big of a bitch Star can be, but Alan never participated in those more than nodding along.

"I'm seventeen now." His announcement is sudden. It even surprises himself.

"Today?"

"No. A couple of days ago."

Michael furrows his brows together in thought. "A couple of days ago," he echoes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Alan shrugs and picks at the dirt under his thumb nail.

"I would have gotten you something, or we could have done something."

"I didn't want anything." He glances up at Michael before turning his focus back to his nail. "I'm now one year closer to being eighteen." His cheeks flush once he realizes what he had just said. Age is another topic that is not to be discussed. "Not that it matters or anything."

Michael grins. "We should probably go celebrate then."

"Where?" They sit for a moment in silence as the teen pieces it together. "Oh."

"Oh? Way to be enthusiastic, buddy."

"I am," Alan says quickly. "It's just that we do it a lot and-."

"Do you not want to?"

"No! I mean, I do want to but-." Alan sighs. He begins to feel frustrated with himself. Why must he always mess up every conversation? "I don't know."

"Don't worry about it," Michael says, placing an arm around Alan's shoulders. "I'll make it worth your time."

* * *

><p><strong>Gosh, I have gotten terrible at this. As you can tell, I am a bit rusty with my writing, so forgive the quality of this chapter. I previously was going to write this only as a one-shot, but it was getting rather long and I was lacking motivation to finish it. However, I do plan on writing an ending. This should be no more than two chapters.I'm hoping some feedback will help motivate me. Constructive criticism is always welcomed! I know I have quite a bit to work on. <strong>

**I got the title and description from Lady GaGa's song Judas. It's what helped inspire this; just a random fact.**

**Also, this is dedicated to demetrifever123 for convincing me to write and for being awesome in general!**


	2. Chapter Two

On one Friday in December, Alan had once again been invited over to Michael's apartment. By Sunday afternoon he still had not left. He spent the entire weekend there hanging out with Michael and trying to keep up with his needs. They slept together in Michel's bed, and ate take-out o the living room couch, where they also passed many hours watching television or movies, just as they are doing now.

Alan lies on the sofa with his head propped up against the arm and his legs resting in Michael's lap. This is an uncommon luxury for him as he rarely gets a chance to do nothing but sit around. His life is mostly consumed by work, and if it is not work that is ruling his life it is school. But here at Michael's there is nothing like that to worry about. There are no shelves that need to be filled, no homework to do and bullies to ignore, or no bills that need to be paid off. There is no smell of pot and no dysfunctional family to deal with either.

His family; Alan has not heard from them since he left Friday night. Not even Edgar has tried to get into contact with him to make sure that he is doing ok. His family clearly does not need him, and Alan is perfectly fine with that, because he does not need them as well. Michael wants him around and that is enough.

Michael keeps a hand on Alan's waist, running it up and down his body. Occasionally the hand will venture lower down beneath the waist band of the teen's jeans. Alan would sometimes move hand, bothered by how friendly it was trying to get. He eventually gave up on resisting, though, and allows Michael to do what he pleases. It worked out better for both of them that way.

"You have great hip bones," Michael says as he rubs his thumb over Alan's hip. Alan looks away from the television and turns his attention towards his partner. He feels confused by the randomness of the compliment. "Especially this one," Michael continues to say. "It's just about perfection."

"Uh, thanks," Alan says, slowly.

Michael grins at him. "Are you cold?"

Alan knows what this means. "Are you cold?" is code for it's about time for some more intimate contact. Although Alan is not feeling cold, nor is he quite in the mood for cuddling, he nods. Michael quickly leaves to retrieve a fleece blanket from the bedroom. When he returns, he gets onto the couch and lies half of his body on Alan and covers both of them with the blanket. The teen keeps his eyes on the television set, even when Michael wrapped his arms around him tightly, pulling him in. Alan pushes back to make them even closer, just like he has learned he is supposed to do. Michael begins to kiss his neck, and slips a hand up inside the teen's shirt. Alan sighs then, a little more loudly and sounding a little more frustrated than he would have liked.

"What's wrong?" Michael asks.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

Alan sighs again. Whenever he brings up how he does not appreciate how handsy Michael can get, Michael does not take it very well. Instead of telling the truth Alan says, "I don't want to go home."

"Then don't," Michael says as he hugs the teen again. "You should stay here."

"I can't. I have school tomorrow."

Now it is Michael's turn to sigh. School. It is one of the main causes of ruining his plans. Michael hates it for this. "How much longer do I get to keep you then?"

"I don't know. Maybe twelve or eleven; something like that."

"Alright. I'll have you home before midnight, Cinderella."

Alan frowns and turns to face Michael. "Cinderella?"

"Yup."

"Cinderella is a girl and a princess."

"You don't want to be a princess?" Michael asks, grinning.

Alan turns his face away. "No."

"Then what do you want to be?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Michael kisses Alan's neck. "You're a difficult one."

"I'm not. I just don't want to be called a princess."

"So, you're nothing then."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you on that one, bud."

Alan shrugs, struggling to make the movement underneath the other's grasp. Michael shifts so that more of his body is on top of Alan. "I can make you feel better. If you want."

"No, thanks."

"Do you not like it?"

"I do," Alan says, quickly. "Just not right now."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Michael places a hand on Alan's cheek and turns his face towards him. "You're a terrible liar." He kisses Alan then. At first the teen resists, but he begins to relax once Michael manages to work his tongue into his mouth. Alan whimpers, helpless to the older boy's touch as Michael snakes his free up Alan's shirt. They break apart.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah." Alan pauses. "Can you do it again?

Michael smirks. "I told you that I could make you feel better."

* * *

><p>The year is quickly coming to an end, and Michael still has no plans set. His original idea was taking Alan back this place, getting wasted, and spending the rest of the time mindlessly fucking until the wee hours of the morning. Those plans, however, are no longer possible. Before Michael got the chance to ask Alan, his new best friend was stolen by his younger brother. Sam asked Alan if he and Edgar wanted to stay the night on New Year's Eve, and of course, Alan accepted, thus ruining Michael's plans. When Michael requested Alan to back out of Sam's offer, Alan refused. He couldn't, he claimed; it would be rude. Not only is Alan not able to switch plans on Sam, but he also does not want to. He is starting to grow a bit weary of Michael's aggressive ways and is in need of a break. Of course, Alan does not tell Michael this. He will keep it a secret, hiding it under the excuse of not wanting to be rude to Sam.<p>

It will work out for the best; even Michael can admit that. It would look too suspicious of Alan suddenly decided to spend the evening with the other Emerson brother instead. Michael is nearly sure that Edgar already knows about what is going on between the two. He can tell by the way the Rambo-wannabe looks at him, so angry and full of contempt. There is nothing Edgar can do about it, though, and Michael takes great joy in that fact. Edgar cares too much about his brother to risk tarnishing their relationship.

But if Sam finds out? Well, that will be a problem. He will most likely be keen with the idea of his older brother, the one person he looks up to the most, screwing around with his best friend. Michael does not want to upset Sam in any way; it would be terrible if something ever happened to their close bond. And their mother? Lucy would be devastated, of course. Michael does not consider what he is doing to Alan to be abusive, but by most laws and others' morals what he is doing can be considered wrong. Lucy has spent the last few years since moving to Santa Carla trying to preserve as much innocence in the Frog brothers as she possibly can, and if she knew what perverted things Michael was doing to Alan behind bedroom doors, well, to say the least she would not be happy. She would never be able to look at her son the same way, and that is also something that Michael does not want to risk happening.

So Michael decided to become more careful. One person knowing will be ok; any more than that could potentially lead to a disaster. He will have to spend less time with Alan, as much as he hates to. It is rather difficult to come by someone that is as willing and desperate for the type of friendship Michael is asking. Hopefully, he will find someone that is willing to fill that space for just one night, if not more.

There is a house party not too far from his apartment. This is the backup plan Michael decided on. He will go to the party, get wasted as he first wanted to, and find some person to shack up with for the night. Alan wouldn't know and what he doesn't know won't hurt him. It was not like they were in a real relationship, Michael told himself, so he technically wasn't cheating. Besides, it is not like Alan would care if he ever did find out. The kid didn't care about much, just as long as Michael is willing to provide him the affection he craves.

As the Frog brothers pull into the Emerson family's driveway, Alan notices that Michael's car is not there. He feels slightly disappointed by this even though he was the one who brought up the idea of Michael staying away this night. Michael is often at the house for a little bit, especially on holidays. The disappointment begins to sink into something more severe. Perhaps Michael is mad at him now, Alan thinks; mad for him asking for a night's break. Perhaps this goes beyond keeping distance. Perhaps Michael no longer likes him and doesn't want to be around him. Alan will have to call him later. He needs to make sure this is not true and that this is all in his mind.

It is all in the mind Alan tries to tell himself as he and Edgar walk up the front steps. Michael cannot get upset over something so small. He is just over thinking things, like always.

Edgar looks at his brother. He can tell that Alan is already setting into another one of his mood episodes. It most likely has to do with Michael. Michael is always the problem now. He turned Alan into his own little puppet now, and has changed him completely. And, in Edgar's opinion, not for the better. Alan is now so desperate for Michael's attention that is sickens Edgar. He and Sam will have to distract Alan tonight and get him to think about something else for once.

* * *

><p>The party is not nearly as exciting as Michael had hoped it would be. He is quickly becoming bored, even with the amount of alcohol he is consuming. He has not drank much lately. There was no need to around Alan since he can get the kid to whatever he wants without going under the influence. But if he is going to get laid tonight he will actually have to try.<p>

Michael is about ready to leave when he bumps into someone he knows.

"Star?"

"Michael! Hey!"

Star is holding a red plastic cup in her hand. Judging by her body language, that is not her first drink. This could be good, Michael decides.

"How have you been?" Star asks. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

"I'm good. How about you?"

"Great!"

"Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yeah! How about you?"

"Sure."

Star giggles. "That doesn't sound too convincing."

"It's alright," Michael says, smiling. "So, where's your boyfriend at?"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Oh." Star pauses to take a sip from her drink. "I don't have one."

"What happened to that one guy you were with?"

Star shrugs. "We broke up ages ago. He was kind of a jerk."

"That's good," Michael says. "That you broke up with him, not the him being a jerk part."

"Yeah. I've never been really good at picking the best guys."

"Ouch."

"Sorry," Star says, grinning. "No offense."

"None taken. So are you here alone then?"

She nods. "I kind of needed a break tonight. Laddie is staying with a neighbor tonight so I can get away for awhile."

"Want to hang out?"

Star studies Michael. She had promised herself before that she would stay away from him. Very few good things have come from being around Michael. It is always a game with him, always some sort of drama going on. Nothing good can from hooking up with him again.

But then again, it's just one night. She has earned her one night of stupidity.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>After the incident on New Year's Eve Star cannot stop thinking about Michael. She wants to. She is trying her very hardest to forget about him, but it is proving to be near impossible. She has made a great mistake and must now pay for it.<p>

She won't get back with him, which is what Star tells herself. People do not change. Michael will still be the same arrogant, self centered jerk that she knew before.

But still, there is something about him.

One night during her break from the bar she works at, Star decides to take a stroll along the boardwalk. She can never stay in that building longer than needed. It is too dark and dirty, and there are far too many annoying, drunk people for her liking. She needs open spaces, and while the Santa Carla boardwalk may not be the cleanest of places it is not as claustrophobic.

Star still has fifteen minutes left until she has to return to the bar, but she cannot find anything to help occupy her time. There is little going on at the boardwalk during the winter time. It is nearly empty. There are no bright lights and vendors. There are few people out, most of them being bored wanders like Star.

As Star continues to walk aimlessly around, she passes the comic book store. She stops. It is likely that at least one of the Frog brothers will be there. They may not be the best of company, but it is better than nothing. And if they aren't up for talking, at least she will have fifteen minutes of getting amusement from teasing them.

Star is surprised to find the shop completely empty. There is no Edgar or Alan. There are not even their pot headed hippy parents sleeping in the corner. How odd, she thinks. Star walks further into the store, looking for any signs of life. They have to be around here somewhere. There is no way Edgar and Alan would leave the store completely open and empty.

A loud crash comes from the back of the store. Star turns her head in the direction of the noise. Apparently there is someone here. "Hello?" she asks softly as she walks towards the storage room. "Is there anyone there?" Her question goes unanswered, but she can hear a voices and laughter.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

Star recognizes the first voice right away; there is no way mistaking it. It belongs to Michael. She is not sure who the other is.

"I don't think this is going to work," the second voice says, quietly.

"It's ok. I've got you."

"It's definitely not going to work."

There is another crash. "Maybe you're right. Here, let's try it the old fashioned way."

Star steps closer to the door. It has been left open just a crack, leaving almost enough room to peek into. She slides the door further open, praying that it won't make any noise. Once she is able to see better Star finds out she had been correct. That is Michael in there. He is on the floor on top of someone in a rather intimate way.

But who is that other person?"

Star strains to get a better look. Whoever it is a bit smaller than Michael. She can make out dark hair and green sleeves wrapped around Michael's neck. For a moment Star feels jealous. It was only a few days ago when Michael had been kissing her in the same furious, lustful way. His hands had wanted her, desperately trying to touch every inch of her, and now they are hungry for someone else's body. She is about to turn away when she finally notices something else.

Combat boots.

There are only two people she knows in this world that wear combat boots on a daily basis, and both work in this store. How had she not thought of that before?

But that would have to mean that Michael, her ex, is on the floor making out with one of the Frog brothers. That cannot be happening. He barely even paid attention to them when they were around. What is he doing with them? And which one?

It does not take Star long to figure that out too. It could not be Edgar; Edgar had never liked Michael much. But Alan? He's still in high school. He can't be doing this; he's just a kid.

Star watches as Michael sits up and begins to mess with the teen's pants. This is wrong; she should not be watching this.

"Let's finish this before Edgar gets back."

"Ok."

Alan's voice sounds so young compared to Michaels, so young and naive. Does Michael realize what he is doing?

Star leaves before she can see any more. It is horrifying. How could Michael do that? She will have to say something to him. He cannot be allowed to do this. He's taking advantage of that poor kid; it's obvious to anyone. Alan has no idea what he is getting himself in to, but Michael does.

* * *

><p>Michael does not take his holiday encounter with Star too seriously. It was good to get it off his chest, but there is not much more to it. It was only something that had to be done. Although he does not consider it to be a big deal, Michael does not bring it up to Alan. When Alan asked him what he ended up doing for New Years, he just shrugged. Alan did not ask any further questions. He probably knew what that meant, but did not act bothered by it.<p>

But something had changed, and Michael noticed it. Alan has become more desperate for his attention. He is now often the first one to call, like he did this Saturday evening.

"_Can you come pick me up?"_

"_Why? What's wrong?_

"_I just don't want to be here. Please?"_

"_Sure, bud. I'll see you in a few."_

Just a little more than ten minutes later Michael arrives at the Frog residence. There is a car sitting in the driveway. Alan must not be home alone. Michael hesitates before knocking on the door, unsure of who will answer it. Luckily for him it is Alan who answers. His face is flushed and he appears to be quite agitated. "Ready to go?" Michael asks.

"Yeah."

"Aren't going to bring anything?"

Alan sighs and turns back into the house. Michael follows. Throughout all of the years of knowing Alan, he has never been inside the Frog home. It does not look much more different than he thought it would be. The amount of dirt and dust in the house would horrify his mother. There are plates of half eaten food left out on the coffee table. A rather decent amount of newspapers and pizza boxes are stacked up against the wall. Michael struggles to walk across the floor without stepping on some random item left out. "You guys sure don't like to clean," he says as he steps over a pair of old roller skates.

"Mom doesn't like us cleaning. It makes her too claustrophobic."

"That doesn't make much sense."

Alan shrugs, but says nothing.

As they pass through the living room, Michael sees Mr. and Mrs. Frog lounging on the couch, watching a movie. It's odd to see them somewhere besides the comic book shop. Neither of the adults give them any notice."Where's Edgar?" Michael asks.

"Working."

"By himself?"

"Mom was having another one of her episodes," Alan explains. "I was the one who got stuck here."

"Shouldn't you stay here then?"

"No. My dad can handle her. She doesn't listen to me anyway."

Michael is a bit taken aback by the bitterness in Alan's voice. He rarely has seen the boy show much emotion, and certainly not such anger. They go into the room Alan shares with Edgar. It is small, barely able to fit the two beds and dresser inside. There is a pile of clothes on the floor, but compared to the rest of the house it is pretty clean. Alan takes his book and dumps the contents onto his bed. Michael sits next to them and watches Alan quickly stuffs clothing into the bag.

"How do you sleep on this?" Michael asks. "It's so hard."

Alan shrugs. "It's just a bed."

"You mean a rock. Now I know why you are always sleeping over at my place."

Alan smiles for a moment, but it quickly turns into a scowl as he hears his mother yell something from downstairs. He quickly grabs a few more items and shoves them into his bag.

"Are you alright?" Michael asks.

"I'm fine."

Michael motions for Alan to join him on the bed.

"No. Let's just go."

"Come here for a minute."

"Michael-."

"Come on!"

Alan sighs, but gives in. Michael pushes the school books off. They fall to the floor in a loud clatter. "You are way too stressed," Michael says as he pulls Alan into his arms. "You always are."

"I have to be."

"No." Michael lays the teen down and settles next to him. "You don't have to."

Alan rests his head against Michael. He is tired from putting up with his mother all day. He needs to be somewhere else. Michael pulls him closer. "You know," the elder boy says. "We've never done it in your bed."

"And we're not going to."

"Why not?"

"It would be weird."

Michael smiles. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"That's your answer for everything." Michael begins to rub himself up against Alan. "I say we do it quick before we go."

"Do we have to?"

"Well, not if you aren't going to be that enthusiastic."

"I'm not enthusiastic."

Michael presses his lips against Alan's. Although he is not in the mood, Alan does kiss back. Michael positions himself on top of the teen and grinds their hips together. Alan is quickly losing control of the situation. Soon his pants will be off again, and Michael will win. Not that he minds at the moment; he will remove them himself if his partner doesn't do it soon. He slides his hands up under Michael's shirt, desperate for more contact. Michael grins and removes his shirt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Just fuck me and get it over with."

Michael is pleased with this answer. Alan has never been so direct before, and he likes it. Michael is about to remove Alan's pants when he hears someone cough in the hallway. Both boys freeze. Someone has been watching them. Alan wiggles himself free from under Michael and looks to see who it is.

There, standing in the doorway, is his father. Even though the man's face shows no proof, Alan knows that he must have seen or heard something. Who knows how long he has been standing there. Alan falls back onto the bed and quietly groans to himself. This situation is completely awkward. Apparently it is not for Michael; he is trying his best not to laugh. Alan shoots him a look. He gets off the bed and hurries towards the door. Michael quickly puts his shirt back on, grabs Alan's book bag, and follows him. Alan brushes past his father without saying a word. Mr. Frog does say something, though.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," Alan replies, coldly. He tries to get away from his father, but Mr. Frog continues to follow them to the front door.

"How long are you going to be gone?" he asks.

Alan slips on his green military jacket. "I don't know."

Michael hands Alan the backpack. For a moment he makes eye contact with Mr. Frog. The man does not seem happy. This only makes Michael want to laugh more. The conversation dies there. Mr. Frog has no questions, and Alan is able to escape before the situation could become even more awkward.

"Well, that was fun," Michael says once they get into the car.

"No."

"Aw, come on! You have to admit that it was kind of funny."

"It wasn't."

Michael starts up the car. "I don't think your dad likes me."

"He just saw you humping me. Of course he's not going to like you."

"Speaking of which, we need to get home and finish that."

* * *

><p>It is late by the time Edgar gets home. It has been a long day at week, much longer without Alan there to help him. But Edgar is the one who lucked out; he knows it. Staying at home with their parents is much worse than waiting on the Santa Carla public. He has many stories to tell his brother about some of the costumers that went through the shop, including some updates on some of their personal favorites.<p>

When he enters the living room, Edgar only finds his parents. "Where's Alan?" he asks.

"He went out," Mr. Frog answers.

Edgar scowls. He knows what that means. If there is one person he hates in this world, it's Michael Emerson for always taking away his brother. Just as Edgar is about to head for his room, Mr. Frog speaks again. "How old is Alan's one friend?"

"Michael? I don't know. Maybe twenty-three or twenty-four."

Mr. Frog nods. He pauses a moment to think of how to ask his next question. "Um," he starts out with. "So, is Alan gay?"

"No," Edgar answers sharply. But he then reconsiders his answer. He has never really thought about it before, if Alan is gay or not. The most logical answer would be yes since he has seen Alan doing very intimate activities with Michael, and who knows what else those two have done. But Alan is only doing those things because Michael pays attention to him, not because he really wants to, or that is what Edgar tells himself. Would it even matter if Alan was that way?

"Do you know that, uh, guy?" Mr. Frog asks.

"He's Sam's older brother."

"Sam?"

Edgar sighs, frustrated. "Our friend. He's been coming around the shop for a couple of years now. You know, that really annoying kid with all of the hair gel and weird clothes?"

"Oh." Mr. Frog pauses. "Does he know about it? About Alan and his brother?"

"I don't think so. He doesn't really notice things."

"Do you think we should so something?"

"We? You're the parent," Edgar says as he turns away. "It will only make Alan hate you. Besides, he's seventeen. He can make his own decisions."

"He's seventeen?"

Edgar sighs. It's no surprise that Alan is running off.

* * *

><p><strong>So, I lied about keeping this in two parts. It's going to be three! I am struggling to think of an ending, but I wanted to update this. I'm sorry for taking so long to finish! Thanks for reading!<strong>


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